#I fucking hate spending time with my extended family I hate it
Text
Feeling dogshit miserable rn
#I have been working nonstop all I do is fucking go to work all I do is work and I have one small period of time off and I can’t even spend#it the way I want. I can’t even spend it with people I love or spend it relaxing. I have to go see fucking extended family#who btw I see all the fucking time#like I don’t want to. I can’t stand extended family especially around the holidays. I would rather die#and it’s not a break from work if it’s gonna be more energy intensive around them than it is when I’m actually at work!!!#I don’t get any days off!!!! I work 7 days a week!!!!!!!! why can’t my ONE BREAK be ACTUALLY NICE#in a place I ACTUALLY WANT TO BE.#with people I ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT.#it’s not fucking fair#I only have 4 more days before my break and you’d think I’d be so excited to finally have some time off but instead I’m fucking dreading it!#like nausea dreading it!#I fucking hate spending time with my extended family I hate it#I HATE it#I hate it worse because I LITERALLY DONT GET TIME OFF OTHERWISE SO WHY AM I SPENDING MY ONE WEEK OFF WITH FUCKING ASSHOLES#my cousins are self entitled self centered privileged materialistic babies#my uncles range from extremest racist lunatics who are sometimes nice to moderate liberals who are absolute fucking assholes#my aunt is a fucking nutjob#my grandmas. well she’s cool but also I live 20 minutes from her rn and I see her all the time I DONT NEED TO SEE HER IN A DIFFERENT WORSE#SETTING.#like.#fuck. and my parents seem to have forgotten that all this is true and they’re like ohhh it’s going to be so nice to see the relativeS#WHEN HAS IT EVER BEEN NICE TO SEE THEM.#NAME ONE TIME.#it’s agonizing and soul sucking and it’s like my parents were fucking hit on the head and made to conveniently forget that fact#and they’re making me fucking see these DIPSHITS and waste MY TIME AND ENERGY when I already literally do not have that any other time#my time is NEVER my own and this was the ONE WEEK where my time would be my own and now it’s FUCKING NOT. ONCE AGAIN.#GOD. I WANT TO SCREAM SO LOUD FOR SO LONG. I WANT TO SCREAM.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#not to be depressing in new year's eve but i feel so shit right now...#all year i've been so out of myself not enjoying anything#and what i do manage to enjoy takes up like an hour of my life and then it becomes disappointing#that's how i would describe the past few months... disappointing#everything feels flat#I can't manage to hold on to a good feeling for more than an hour or two#i have absolutely no hope for the future and I don't even care about that anymore#nothing feels worth anything anymore#and what's really solidifying that feeling today of all days#is the fact that every year since before I was born my family celebrates new years eve#a few years ago the celebrations changed since my extended family decided to cut us out a bit but my mom brother and i still celebrate#we get yummy food play fun games and just spend the night together until midnight when we toast and go to bed#well this year it's 10:30 and we're already in bed doing the same things we do every day#being on our phones or watching a movie or whatever on our own#and it's just disappointing again#idk if it's the break of the tradition or the fact that the new year doesn't feel important this time#but i feel so fucking sad and numb and depressed#i hate it#I don't even feel like saying the usual ''hope 2024 is better'' shit#i just don't care and i don't think it's gonna be better... it's gonna be the same old shit and it's gonna be disappointing#nothing matters anymore and i don't think anyone fucking cares#i feel so numb...#i don't even know what the point of this post is... sorry about that#hope y'all's new years eve is better than mine (or new year's day idk your time zones)#angel talks#personal
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
do you ever think about how darcy's perspective of the visit to rosings is just... a completely wild time.
so like. he and his favourite cousin goes to visit with his weird aunt, and ends up running into this hot girl, that he's really kinda increasingly into? she's staying in the area for a while with her bestie.
so like. he was expecting a boring social obligation visit & getting pressure into marrying his other, less favourite cousin.
instead, he watches the hot girl hold her own with his aunt in conversation. she banters with him over the pianoforte and they have a Moment™. he keeps going over to the house she's staying at, just to awkwardly chill there, even though he doesn't like the other people there. has a whole conversation with her about how she wouldn't mind living far away from family, as long as she could afford the travel. he extends his visit so he can keep seeing her.
when he runs into her on a walk, she makes a point of detailing the exact route she prefers to take while out walking, clearly encouraging him to join her, so he does. he has a really nice time on these walks, they spend a lot of time in companionable silence, but he manages to flirt a little by implying some stuff about the future & what their married life could be like, and they have some conversations about that.
and sure, she has some family baggage, but none of them are around so it's a lot easier to ignore, y'know?
so eventually he just can't take it anymore, and he shoots his shot. she clearly values honesty so he explains his scruples as well, but he thinks she's been dropping some favourable signals, so he's got a good chance, right?
and then not only she turns him down she ROASTS THE FUCK OUT OF HIM. she insults him. she insults his honour as a gentleman. she flips the fuck out about... oh yeah crap the sister thing, turns out his cousin blabbed, and then I'M SORRY YOU SAID WHAT? ABOUT WICKHAM? THIS IS ABOUT FUCKING WICKHAM, MY FUCKING NEMESIS? HE FUCKING SAID WHAT ABOUT.... OH MY GOD. oh fuck. I've fucked up so badly I need to reevaluate my entire life & risk sending a letter to an unmarried woman who hates my guts, just so i can explain shit. fuck.
#jane austen#like#pride & prejudice#adaptations really downplay how much darcy was genuinely flirting with elizabeth for like half the time#and she was just. clueless#wait no that's emma#she was not perceptive#but they’re well suited because darcy?#also not perceptive#(shhh it’s the Autism)
8K notes
·
View notes
Note
sirius black x fem!reader. where she's all touch starved and needy
thank you for requesting!🖤
.
Contrary to popular belief, Sirius Black actually didn’t mind returning home for one reason and one reason only.
There was always a feeling of dread that settled deep in his stomach whenever a letter landed on his plate before breakfast, his family wax seal glaring back at him like some sort of sick joke. He knew what it was every single time because his mother only wrote to him when she needed him back home for whatever reason.
He hated it. He hated every second he had to spend in that house. He hated the way he would be goaded and mocked and provoked. He hated the remarks his family would make about the people he cared about. He hated that he had to spend any extended amount of time with the people who were only connected to him through blood.
He hated it so much.
But the one saving grace was that he would always come back to you.
You always hated that you could never join Sirius back home, to be there for him and comfort him and be the rock he needed to remember that he was more than his twisted, fucked up family. You hated the nights he was away because there was no way of contacting each other, no way of knowing if he was okay or if he would even return.
It made you sick to your stomach when your boyfriend was away from you.
And, even if it made him seem a little fucked in the head, Sirius fucking adored going home for the simple reason that you were all over him the second he was back. You wouldn’t let him out of your sight, you would be glued to his side and he fucking adored it more than words could explain.
He loved that he had someone who wanted him that much, even if he was gone just for a few days.
“Sweetheart,” Sirius let out an amused chuckle as your hands dipped under the fabric of his shirt, winding your arms around his waist. “We gotta go for dinner.”
“No,” your response was muffled from where your face was nuzzled into the crook of his neck, your cheek pressed against his neck where you could feel his pulse point thumping. “I’m happy here.”
Sirius tried his best to bite back his grin. “You’re not hungry?”
“We can eat later,” you negotiated, letting out a content sigh as his arms tightened around you. “We’ll sneak into the kitchens like we always do.”
“You and your traditions, love,” he mused playfully, as though he didn’t love every single moment of it. As though every time he returned from home, it wouldn’t be the same series of events of you wrapping yourself around him until you had to let go.
“I just missed you,” you muttered with a small huff, lifting your head to look at him with a fondness in your eyes that made his chest tighten.
“I missed you too, love,” he murmured as he leaned forward to press a long, lasting kiss on your lips before his head fell back onto his pillow. “Missed having my favourite girl.”
And he fucking loved the way your smile spread across your face.
“You’re my favourite boy,” you told him.
“I would hope so,” he joked lightly as he guided you to lie down on his chest again, his eyes falling shut as the contentment of the moment settled deep in his bones after the days he had spent back in his family home. “I do plan on keeping you around for a while.”
“Yeah?” you hummed. “How long is a while?”
“How does forever sound?”
“Sounds perfect.”
.
#sirius black#marauders#harry potter#hp#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#sirius black x y/n#sirius black fic#sirius black one shot#marauders x reader#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#marauders fic#marauders oneshot#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#harry potter x y/n#harry potter fic#harry potter oneshot#hp x reader#hp x you#hp x y/n#hp fic#hp one shot
891 notes
·
View notes
Text
Don't Blame Me | Dark!Morpheus Headcanon
pairing: dark!morpheus x human!reader
warning: dark themes, yandere tendencies, major gaslighting
a/n: a continuation of this request and an actual attempt at a headcanon this time. honestly idk how i got here lmao i was trying something new but the writing style is just all over the place :'D i might just stick to what i know but it's done so have it anyway fml you can actually pinpoint the exact moment i gave the fuck up lmao
Morpheus, true to his word, will never refuse you – bar leaving him. That isn’t to say he won’t bargain with you in exchange for your affection. You want freedom to explore The Dreaming? Sit on lap for an hour every day. You want to visit your friends or your family through their dreams? Grant him a kiss. You want to visit the waking world for a day? Spend an entire day with him.
You are to address him as ‘Husband’ or ‘My Love’ at all times. He won’t accept any other terms and if you don’t want him pouty and sulky for days you will learn to oblige him.
He will never force you to lay with him against your will. He will be very tactile with you, of course, run his fingers through your hair, brush his thumb over your lips, pepper your shoulders with innocent kisses – but he will heed you without question as soon as you say ‘No’.
You will never escape him. The sooner you realize that the sooner you’ll see you are, in fact, the one with power over him. He will do anything to please you and gain your love again.
If you have yet to accept him, he will be extra possessive of you and any being he sees to be closer to you than him will be perceived as a threat to his position in your heart.
You learned this the hard way after visiting a friend through their dream and openly expressed how much you missed them. It wasn’t particularly intimate or affectionate, but Morpheus had been most displeased.
“What more must I do to gain even a sliver of your affection?!” He roared then. You remember walking into the heart of his palace to see him sat at the bottom step of his throne, eyes shining with resentment and his lips pursed petulantly. “I have disappointed you, I admit, in keeping you here but what can the waking world give you that I cannot?”
You stared at him in disbelief. Disappointed? Does he truly think you are merely disappointed? “You know what will make me happy.”
Rising to his full height to tower over your from, Dream of the Endless hardens his countenance as well as his heart in the face of his love, “Freedom? You think freedom will make you happy?” You hated the clear mockery in his voice as though you were asking for the impossible. “Very well then, my love.” That should have been the first red flag. Morpheus has never once relented when it came to the subject of your freedom. He bends down to plant an open-mouthed kiss on the top of your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.
The King of Dreams then moved his open palm close to his mouth. He merely returned your look of confusion with a small smile before he exhaled a deep breath, sending a flurry of sand your way. The last thing you heard was “I exist only to serve you.”
Then…freedom. You remembered waking up in your bed, in your room, in your flat. It was bliss. Things were as you left them. You had your friends and your family. At first you feared Morpheus would make himself known to you again and rob you of the joy mundane life brought you. But he never came. Not even in your dreams. That should have been the second red flag.
Things remained the same for a long time – until it wasn’t. It started with little things, like your friends having dreams of you being unkind or inconsiderate. Silly things like that. At the beginning they would share it with you, and you’d all laugh about it. But the dreams would persist, later extending to you being violent to them. Then they’d wake up with physical evidence. What if they weren’t just dreams? They’d all wonder to themselves.
It wasn’t much different for your family – only their dreams would be memories of you. At first, they’d recognize the little changes made in the dream, but they’d experience it each night that eventually it would subconsciously replace their memory and perception of you.
Like that time you went swimming with your cousins when you were all teenagers and one of them almost drown through no fault of yours. Well, now it was your fault.
Or that time your grandmother fell down the stairs and you were definitely at work when it occurred. Well, someone recalled seeing you at the top of the stairs, looking down in delight.
In time your family and friends would slowly turn against you no matter how many times you would try to refute their claims. No, you did not try to seduce your sister’s fiancée. No, you did not hit your nephew. No, you did not kill the neighbour’s cat.
You felt everyone’s stares and heard their whispers, in your hometown; at work; in your building. You felt the weight of their judgement.
“I didn’t do it! I didn’t do any of it!” But the more you insisted the more it sounded like the ramblings of a mad woman. “You have to believe me!” They didn’t believe you.
Your family later institutionalised you, thinking it for the best. Poor Y/N. What happened to her? They’d gossip amongst themselves.
It was when you were sitting in the middle of a padded room with a straight jack forced upon you, a punishment for your misbehaviour, that you finally called out to Morpheus. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”
“Oh, my beloved wife” you heard him say not long after, voice far too sweet to be genuine but you didn’t even care to notice in your grief, “What have they done to you, my sweet” you’d feel a ghost of a hand brush down your cheek, “The Dreaming weeps for its Queen, as do I. Mortals do not deserve you.”
“Please, Morpheus, I want…to go home.”
You thought you heard him purr, but Morpheus had yet to show himself. “Is that truly what you want, my love? I do not want to deprive of you of your…freedom.”
“I was wrong.” You could only continue to sob, so utterly betrayed, “I-I thought they cared…I thought they loved me.”
He materialized in front of you then in a swirl of sand, clad in his glorious robes of black, “Oh, but none could love you as much as I.” He bent down to cup your face in both hands, “Let me worship you, my Queen, as you rightly deserve.”
If you enjoyed this you might enjoy Fire on Fire, a Morpheus and Scarlet Witch!Reader. Very 'you and i against the world' with a dash of 'villain will sacrifice the world for you' vibes lmao (morpheus is not a villain, but he could be for you 👀)
#tag:my work#tag:headcanon#morpheus x y/n#morpheus x you#morpheus imagines#morpheus x reader#dream x y/n#dream x you#dream imagines#dream x fem!reader#dream x reader#netflix the sandman#the sandman imagines
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
The “cultural Christianity” stuff is making the rounds again. And what I think a lot of people who object are missing about that designation is that you have to actually leave a culture to not be part of it anymore, and even then, it will still shape a lot of how you first react to things.
I’m American. I have spent, collectively, a grand total of four months (rounded up) outside the US. My parents were born here. My grandparents were born here. I am pretty definitively culturally American, for all that literally no one in my family identifies as “American” before they identify as “Jewish.”
I can say American culture sucks. There’s a lot about it (yes, I know there’s more than one. Yes, they can be quite different. Yes, there can be a great deal of tension between them. No, that doesn’t necessarily make that much difference from the outside. Yes, that is quite relevant to the extended metaphor I’m going for here) that does. What I can’t do is say I’m not actually a part of it. I’m a citizen. I’m surrounded by other Americans at pretty much all times. I’m not emigrating, I’m not making a point of immersing myself in specific local expat communities as a cultural immersion thing. I’m certainly not “from no country.” I definitely don’t have a more objective sense of American culture than someone who isn’t American and is living here reluctantly. I may have a more in-depth sense of it, but there’s no way they don’t have the basics down, because it is fucking everywhere, and they are constantly running into people who are trying to make them assimilate into it (further) in some sort of attempt to help them be normal. And they, unlike me, have a sense of what it looks like in comparison to something else.
Now. Let’s say I decide I hate America and everything it stands for and I don’t want to live here. But my family’s here, and I’ve got positive memories. I don’t have the money to go somewhere else. So rather than actually leave, I develop a deep fixation on another country. Maybe it’s based on a shallow understanding from stereotypes, maybe it’s a genuine respectful interest. But surrounding myself with a bunch of other Americans while we go on about... I dunno, how much we love England and tea does not erase how we’ve spent our whole lives being American, and it certainly doesn’t erase how we’re still living in America. Let’s say I take it a step further. Let’s say I actually emigrate somewhere. There’s two extremes. Either I fully immerse myself in my new country. I learn the language, I participate in the culture, I genuinely try to immerse myself. Or, I feel uncomfortable because things are weird and different and not quite what I’m used to, so I surround myself with a bunch of other American expats, and we spend all of our time talking about America. Maybe we talk about how much we hated it and how awesome we are for leaving it and how much it sucks and how everyone who’s there is terrible. Maybe we talk about the good things. But we’re still centering our existence around America.
But even in the first of those options, where I genuinely try to acculturate, there’s still going to be things that pop up for the rest of my life where those initial few decades of life in the US will shape my expectations. Maybe they’ll be small things “oh right, sales tax is listed on prices here.” Maybe they’ll be big things “excuse me, what just happened in parliament?” But I will always have that American lens with me. Even if I hate it. Even if I found it traumatizing. That’s not a moral judgement on me, it’s just how formative life experiences work. I can become not-American. I can’t become never-American.
Cultural existence in a religious framework -any religious framework -works the same way, because religion both has and shapes culture. When I bitch about the omnipresence of cultural Christianity, I’m not calling anyone who is culturally Christian bad. I’m complaining about the pervasiveness of Christian hegemony. When I complain about culturally Christian atheists (which I only ever do in the context of specific behaviors by specific people), I’m not saying “these people are terrible and unredeemable,” I’m saying “there is a very clear pattern of people taking the step of saying they dislike Christianity but then trying to enforce Christian hegemony by claiming the parts they like are secular, thereby effectively coming across from an outside perspective as a continuation of the general attempt at forced Christianization.”
If you hated the Christian family you grew up with and everything about them and Christianity but like Christmas and want to celebrate it, that’s fine. Genuinely happy for you you’ve got something you enjoy! Have fun! Nog your eggs! Deck your halls! Call it Festivus and put up a pole instead of a tree! Do an anti-Christmas where you decorate with Halloween decorations in Santa costumes and celebrate with spooky stuff! But that doesn’t make it secular. It makes it you finding the one bright spot you had in darkness and hanging onto it. I sincerely respect that -it’s difficult to do. The thing is, I’m not in that darkness, and you trying to insist everyone have that light of yours comes across as yet another person shining the interrogation light of “why can’t you just be normal like me” in my face.
I don’t want Christmas. I want freedom from it. “Everyone can have Christmas” in response to “I don’t want Christmas” doesn’t come across as a friendly offer to share. It comes across as an aggressive attempt to force assimilation specifically on people who say they’re actively fighting it.
473 notes
·
View notes
Text
Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!
Summary: the one where going back to your hometown is never a good idea.
Rating: +18
Warnings: pure angst (w/ a happy ending), derogatory language, psychological trauma, negligent parents, mentions of abuse, anxiety, depression, mentions of teen pregnancy, ab*rtion, self-harm, addiction and ending your own life
Word count: 8.5k
Note: it’s a very loooong and heavy fic, all the possible triggers are mentioned above, so please see them before you read this one, because it has a lot of uncomfy moments. I wrote it originally around christmas (so themed fanfic?), also available in my ao3.
masterlist
The cold wind whipped against her body and she shivered slightly, the city was colder than expected. She looked around, people walking, chatting; she knew most of them, many had not changed at all since leaving the city for a better life. Since the day she finished high school, she swore she would never set foot in that city again, yet there she was. The only cousin she still considered family, recently had her second child, so the relative begged her to spend some time together; as she was busy, the only time off she could extend was precisely during the holidays.
Going back to that city gave her the creeps, she didn't like to remember everything she'd been through here. Still, she would never deny a request coming from her cousin, since whenever her relative had time, she would go visit her in London.
Her story was a complicated one. A high school plagued with problems at home - her parents never stopped fighting and consequently all the marital problems reflected on her, physically and psychologically. Several times she wished the world would take her away from that suffering. Not only that, but inside the school she was excluded, considered as stupid and someone who would not have a promising future, as a girl who only served the body, since the mind was empty. Boys cheated on their girlfriends with her, turned her into an inside joke, while girls hated her for everything. It was all jokes and games until she got pregnant when she was 16. Her parents freaked out, Christmas that year was terrible, her father's screams were so loud that the neighbours could hear his swearing.
She managed to get to London, going to a public clinic and begging the secretary to have the procedure done without her parents' permission, then she would just use the excuse of having had a miscarriage. That night on December 24th, sitting on the curb, looking at the Christmas lights in the big city, she had promised she would live there.
Until she turned eighteen, she tried to be erased from other people's memories of the city, just doing the school-home commute, doing all the endless chores demanded by her father - since her mother was too busy with her face stuffed into a glass of wine, and making enough money to get out of there through nights working as a cleaner at the roadside diner. It wasn't glorious, her past still ached in her heart, having this profound journey when you're only a teenager had scarred her life. Her cousin, Rosie, was still the light at the end of the tunnel in all this chaos she could call her past; the one who paid for her train tickets to the capital had been her, the one who fetched her from unpleasant encounters with boys who purposefully sought her out for an easy fuck, the one who fought with men for harassing her, the one who was there when she tried to take her own life and stood by her hospital bed while she became an even bigger laughing stock, not only among her peers but also in her entire family, who proudly pushed her away from everything they could.
So going back to that epicentre of her traumas was what she was doing for her cousin, a way of thanking her for everything she had done to keep her alive.
In 12 years, a person can change a lot; her hair was no longer in its natural colour, her body was strong, her head held high and the confidence that was built in many intense therapy sessions; plus an overcoming of an addiction. Some people recognised her on the street, with shocked expressions at seeing her dressed so well, others ignored as soon as she said hello and there were also those who pulled nasty conversations - obviously those who peaked in high school and were now in mediocre jobs. She responded with the utmost happiness, being in a job that valued her and still paid well was a difficult thing these days.
The woman parked her bike in front of her cousin's house, looking around, the houses were still the same, just some renovations or painting. That feeling of panic started to hover, her old house was across the street, right in front of her cousin's house. She took a few seconds to remove her helmet and grab her backpack, walking in dragging steps down the driveway, knocking on the door lightly. Nobody answered, how strange. She sighed loudly, looking at the time on her mobile phone, she was probably shopping. She walked slowly and sat on the steps, watching the movement on the street; she sent some messages to Rosie, who answered, apologising for the wait, but the line at the supermarket was huge.
Suddenly, a black Mercedes stopped there, almost crushing her bike. She stood up quickly, to check if there was any damage, ready to curse the reckless driver. A dark-skinned man with braided hair and fancy clothes stepped out of the driver's side, looking straight at her and walking calmly towards her - which made the woman's blood boil even more.
"Oy! Sorry for almost messing up your bike, I didn't mean to."
"Mate, you're lucky nothing happened." She retorted, looking the motorbike up and down.
"Oh... Okay, you don't need to get mad at me." He raised his arms and she rolled her eyes.
Before they could continue their conversation, Rosie parked her car, flashing a smile at the sight of her. She ran over and hugged her tight, which removed her tough-guy composure in front of the stranger. The older woman looked at the man who was standing there, who was waiting for the other man's answer, for a few seconds they stood still, until the owner of the other car went to him, hugging the man, who smiled and kissed her cheek back.
“Lewis freaking Hamilton, you’re back home!” The blond said to him. “The only time of the year we can actually see each other. I bloody missed you.”
“Me too. Fancy a cuppa?” He said, letting her go.
“Oh! I- I don’t know! My cousin just arrived and I need to set her down, right?” Rosie looked at her, circling her short arms around her younger cousin’s shoulders. “Maybe tomorrow! You and bring your niece and nephew, Bandit will love to have a playdate with them.”
“Deal.”
They dispersed, with the women going to the eldest house, while Hamilton headed to his parents' house.
Rosie's house was cosy, family photos on the walls, very colourful and well decorated. The blonde showed around, finally showing the room she would be staying in; there were a couple of clean towels, soap, shampoo and conditioner on top of a neatly made bed. The room was smelly and well lit, even if it was small, it gave a feeling of comfort.
"You can go pack your things, I'll start dinner. Jam is with the baby, he's gone for a routine doctor's appointment and will pick Bandit up from school later." She placed a hand on her cousin's shoulder. "Thank you for being here, you don't know how grateful I am to welcome you into my home."
"Only you could bring me to this place again."
They both cracked a warm smile, with the older one walking off and leaving the girl alone with her thoughts. She grabbed one of the towels, the toiletries and went to shower in the en suite bathroom. After undressing, she spent a few seconds staring at her body in the mirror, the scars across her torso that revealed her past, the stretch marks along her breasts and belly that hid a story she preferred to keep to herself. She took a boiling bath, letting the water do its effect and easing the pain in her back from driving on the motorbike all day. When she got out, she had only the fluffy towel wrapped around her body, she walked over to the bed, opening her backpack and pulling out a sweatshirt and trousers, she was too distracted by what she was going to wear to notice that her window faced the neighbour's window - which was consequently the room where Lewis Hamilton was staying and in the same situation as she was, with a towel around his waist after a hot shower, choosing a comfortable outfit. They both raised their heads at the same moment, exchanging a few seconds of eye contact, which was soon broken by the girl pulling back the curtain of her window. The man was visibly intrigued, his cheeks reddened by the intimate moment with the stranger.
In parallel, she went to dinner with her cousin and her family, while he had fun with his family, his niece and nephew running around the house.
…...................................................
During the afternoon tea they arranged, Rosie hosted not only for Hamilton, but also his entire family. The Londoner knew him very well, they were the same age, went to the same school from kindergarten to high school; she didn't know where to stick her face, her parents would recognise her too, she was a big topic among the adults in town. She tried to keep calm the whole moment, focusing her attention on Bandit, who called her to play together with the other children, she would surely thank him later, probably giving her some exaggerated and expensive gift. When it was time to eat, she walked further behind the children, helping her cousin set the table for afternoon tea, avoiding looking her neighbours in the face. She sat down next to the little boy who saved her skin, helping him serve himself and soon after putting food on his plate. She hated eating with strangers, however she would try her best for Rosie.
"I feel like I know you." one of Hamilton's sisters said to the woman.
"You probably do, this town is small and we are always bumping into each other." She shrugged.
His sisters seemed to have recognised the girl, however they kept quiet on that subject for the rest of the day.
By the time night was coming on, it was just her and Hamilton, sitting on the front steps of the house. The silence was not awkward, much less uncomfortable, it seemed they understood each other without any words being exchanged.
"Sorry about yesterday, I was a brat with you, mate." She said low.
"Nah, it's alright, I guess you're just a bit of a crikey... As my teammate would say it." He cracked a smile, as a result she lightly slapped his arm, which earned a laugh from both of them. The silence lasted a few more seconds after they stopped laughing, then he broke it. "My half-sisters know you."
"Yeah? One of them commented today, but we didn't follow up on it."
"They told me some things that got me gutted." Oh no, here it comes. The judgement, the past mistakes being brought on by this guy you barely knew.
"What did they say?"
"Well... We already knew a little about your parents, but they told me how you were treated in high school." She felt a wave of emotions invade her body, she didn't know whether to start swearing at him, or cry, or run far away. "It wasn't fair." Lewis said low, wiggling his fingers in each other's. "And I'm sorry my sisters never did anything to prevent it."
"It's not their fault those people were a bunch of arses." She stood, ready to go inside.
"Hey, wait!" He stood as well, holding her wrist so she couldn't leave, pulling her against his body in a warm hug. She closed her eyes, feeling the embrace, it was so good to just let it go.
They kept hugging for a while, him running his fingers through her back and she was squeezing the fabric of his hoodie.
“Tomorrow, there will be the Christmas event downtown, want to come with me? A lot of people from my former friend group will be there.” He said. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay, there will be people you know from your high school too, but I would love to have a good company so I can be there sober.” He chuckled at the end, to make the request lighter.
The ask came with a shock, they knew each other for 48 hours and he seemed so comfortable to be with her. She also felt amazing, the way he listened and cared about his relatives, during the afternoon he would often check on the kids, bring them snacks, then talk with the women about the most varied subjects, which made her question what he worked on. Lewis looked hopeful, waiting for a response.
“Okay, only because you’re a good one, but if people start giving me the shits, we’ll leave and for revenge, you’ll watch the Grinch with me; because I’m his reeincarnation and it’s the best coping mechanism.”
“Oh. So you hate Christmas?” He was way focused on the details then the overall request.
“Of course, bad things always happen on this daft holiday.”
“So my job is to make you see like I do. The past is already gone, we should celebrate the present and hope for the future, darling.”
“So I’ll wait for tomorrow night to be the best of my life?” She teased, feeling her heart beating faster than usual.
“It will be, trust me.”
…............................................
She was getting ready, happier and more nervous than usual, she wanted to look good, obviously the motive didn't pass through her mind. Rosie was walking down the corridor, but stopped when she smelled the citrusy perfume in her guest’s bedroom; the woman smiled, looking at her cousin, who was putting some makeup on.
“Ooh, getting fancy? For whom may I ask?” The older one leaned on the door frame.
“Lewis invited me to go to the Christmas event, he doesn’t want to go alone, maybe people won’t bother him as much.” She answered, grabbing her purse and fixing her beanie.
“Right.” Her irony could be spotted from miles away. “A smoking hot single guy asking you to go out with him in a sorta romantic setting is just because he doesn’t want to be surrounded by people from his past.”
“Rosie… Shut up! We’re going as friends and if it’s too daft, he’ll be forced to watch Grinch with me.”
“Not romantic, at all.” She chuckled and the doorbell rang. “It’s your prince charming!”
“I swear to God, you’re such an arse!” The girl ran downstairs right after the blonde one, seeing that she was talking with him, so the younger one stopped on her tracks, smiling nervously.
“There you are.” Lewis said, with his beautiful bright smile. “Looking amazing, love.” She walked towards him, smacking his arm slightly.
“You’re so cheeky.”
“And you’re lovely.” He responded, hooking their arms together. “Let’s go before we get late.”
They waved at Rosie, going to his car.
….................................................................
“I’m nervous.” She said, playing with her ring. “People still look at me weird.”
“It’s horrible.” He sighed. “I know my situation is way different from yours, but I understand this feeling, those racist pricks who talked shit and said I would never be a successful driver and here I am.”
“Oh… Really?” She put a hand on his shoulder slightly, squeezing it before lowering to her thigh again. “This must be a very silly question to you…”
“What?”
“A driver? Hum… I know I’ve seen your face somewhere but, what do you do? I mean... Driver?” Her cheeks were bright red.
“Formula One driver.” He smirked, it was a nice change to go out with someone that wasn’t interested in his fame or fortune, a woman that wanted him for him, his company, his odd sense of humour and a lot of style.
“Oy. That’s why.” She chuckled. “You must be really good then.”
“Seven titles and counting.” His cheekiness made her stomach flutter. “How about you?”
“I work on the creating process of a clothing brand for kids. It’s nice and colourful, my office? Full of stuffed toys, different wallpapers, one day I’ll show you.” She was proud about her work, it was something that made her happy, connected with a part of her life that she had lost and it was a good salary.
“I would love to.” He parked his car. “The way you talk about it, it’s lovely.”
They got out of the car and quickly he hooked her arm with his, walking through the closed street of the city centre. Immediately she felt the eyes on them, people whispering and trying to be discreet while taking pictures of them. He looked at her with a reassuring smile, muttering ‘everything is going to be okay’. Some kids ran to him, asking for pictures, which he happily complied, hugging them and taking his time with them while she was standing a bit further, cracking a smile on how gentle he was. However, things weren't perfect, so when she looked at the parents of the kid, her smile fell; the woman slowly came closer to her, saying her name.
“The one and only.” She answered, uncomfortable.
“I haven't seen you since…”
“We’ve finished high school. A long time ago.”
“Oh… Yeah.” The ginger was checking her from head to toe, with a disgusted expression. “You changed a lot.”
“London does wonders to you.” She joked, passing her hand around her neck, looking away. “Anyway! You stayed here?”
“Yeah, me and Rob went to university in the neighbouring city and then came back, we got married and had our beautiful boys.” Oh wow, how cliche. “And you?”
“Got out of here and tried. Failed a couple of times…” She chuckled, looking at Hamilton. “And now working in the creative process of…” She saw the kids come back, excitedly from meeting their idol and she immediately noticed the brand of their jackets. “The brand your kids are using right now.”
Lewis walked back at her, putting his hand on her shoulder, analysing the situation and seeing her slightly uncomfortable.
“Impressive.” The passive-aggressiveness in her voice was enough for the British man.
“Well, I’m very sorry to interrupt the chat, but we have to keep going if we want to get the best hot chocolate before it’s over.” He put the other hand on her shoulder, slightly massaging it. “Maybe we’ll have another free time to catch up.” With that, he held her hand pulled away from the couple, waving goodbye to the kids.
“Thank you.” She murmured and he held her hand stronger than before.
He stopped at the hot chocolate booth, buying for both of them and they kept walking. They didn’t know when they intertwined their fingers or started to walk closer, sharing small smiles and more intimate conversations, although none of them wanted this moment to stop. The beautiful stage prepared for the local band to play was ready and people started to gather around. Hamilton insisted on buying some street food for both of them to share while they listened to the mayor talk and all the boring speeches.
More judgmental looks from people were shot at them and she recognized all of them, which hurt more than expected. When the music started to play, the man let his body loose, moving with the rhythm and she got closer to him, letting Lewis pass his hands around her waist and rest his head on her shoulder, looking at the stage. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in and out, feeling the things around her, the sounds and the smells; she knew herself too much to know she was close to a panic attack, not because of him, but all the situations since they got out of the car.
“Alright, love?” He whispered.
“Bit rubbish, but I’ll be fine.”
He hugged her closer, leaning his forehead against the side of her head, murmuring the lyrics and swaying in a slow pace. It was good, she still let her eyes closed, calming herself down; he was just the best to be around. She lowered her hands, putting on top of his and caressing slowly, the feeling of it was nice, his cold rings against the warm skin. At her head, the words of Rosie before the date repeated over and over, that it was an actual date and he didn’t invite her only as a friend. They only backed off from each other to clap when the band was finishing, now some regional singers would be up and people were more interested. The passionate looks between them were so intense that they took a time to see someone calling for her name; she got out of the trance, whispering ‘fuck’ a few times, before putting a fake smile.
“I thought you were dead or something, you vanished from earth.” the brunette smiled.
“I moved out. London.” She looked at Lewis, who held her hand. He was already in flight or fight mode.
“Wow, I never thought someone like you would do so…” The woman dragged the ‘o’ while looking at the driver. “Well in life. At least get someone as incredible as Sir Hamilton.”
The brunette’s partner approached them too, with whatever he went to grab to his noisy girlfriend. Oh shit. She felt like she was sixteen again, the guy who was already in university and went after a sixteen year old girl because women of age wouldn’t want to be with him, nevertheless got her knocked up by lying to her. She held Lewis’ hand tighter, looking at him and back at them.
“Hey! You.” The guy pointed at her. “It’s been a while.” He smiled, looking at his partner. “Hamilton! I haven't seen you since the big school reunion… It was what? In 2018.”
“Yeah, long time, mate.” He said, trying to maintain as neutral as possible.
“I didn’t think you would be with someone… You didn’t seem the relationship type of person.” The guy said, sipping on his drink. “Because, you know… Your… History.”
The driver was close to beating that man up, however he knew the girl holding his hand, almost crying, would not like the attention, so he got closer to her, running his thumb around her hand, trying to calm both of them down.
“I’m sorry! Uhm… Sometimes Patrick doesn’t shut up.” She tugged at him with his arm. “He likes to keep honest, right?” Of course she would stand by him. “I mean, you had quite a bad reputation…”
“You can say it.” The girl in a verge of tears said, taking a deep breath. “You kept your whole adolescence saying it. It won’t hurt you, I know that.”
“Fine.” The brunette crossed her arms. “I hope you really knew about this Sir.” She looked at Hamilton. “But this lovely girl with you was the biggest whore in our high school and it wasn’t just rumours, she even got knocked up and claimed that lost the baby. So if I was you I would stay away, she’s just into your money and body.”
Lewis didn’t answer, just pulled his girl away and walked to his car again, trying to not call as much attention as that horrible couple already tried. Meanwhile, her head was low, no response, just some sniffles; her head was full of different voices saying all the horrible words she heard during high school, the rumours and how they treated her in that time. It was the first time in years that she felt the need to drink herself into forgetting her own name. The dark-skinned man opened the car door for her, but before he did, he lifted her face with his fingers, seeing her eyes glistening from tears; his first reaction was to take her in his arms, hugging her gently, running his fingers through her hair as the woman held back her crying. He kept holding her for a few minutes, until she broke away from the hug, sitting on the car seat, looking at him and murmuring 'thank you', in reaction, he kissed her forehead, closing the door and going to the driver's side.
The drive home was quiet, only the radio filling the silence of the car. The worried glances from the driver left her even more cringed in her seat. When he parked in the garage of his family's house, he made a point of getting out of the car first to open the door for her and escort her to her cousin's house. She hadn't said a word yet, much less acted beyond walking, so he pressed the doorbell and saw Rosie's worried look settle on both of them, yet she hurried off to her room, not even saying goodbye to their date.
"What happened?" The older woman's expression was serious.
"People from her past. They were horrible, no matter how hard she tried to be nice.... I pulled her out of a conversation before it got any worse and brought her back." He bowed his head, he was disappointed in himself, he had planned a nice date and hoped to see her smiling, enjoying life and leaving the bad feelings the city left in her. "I should have protected her, but I didn't want to make a scene. I know she would have hated being the centre of attention again. More than she already would have been for hanging out with me."
"Lew..." Rosie put her hand on his shoulder. "I know you just wanted to have a nice night out with her.... I know what you see in her. Don't give up, just... The people in this town can be the worst."
"That's exactly why I left here." He muttered.
"Well, she commented on the Grinch movie before she went out with you."
"Oh! Yeah, in case the night was bad, but I imagine she doesn't want to watch it now."
"Come in. Go into the bedroom and ask about the movie. She doesn't want to be alone."
He walked slowly up the stairs, he was nervous, afraid of what her reaction would be to him being there, somehow invading her personal space. Lewis took a deep breath before knocking on the bedroom door at the end of the hall.
"Not now, Rosie..." The woman said in a tearful voice.
"It's me, love." He said low and the door was suddenly opened.
She had her make-up all smeared on, now wearing a sweatshirt twice her size, pyjama trousers and slippers. The pilot stood leaning against the door frame, watching her.
"I remember you talking about Grinch..." He watched her expression soften, making room for him to enter.
He removed his coat, cap and shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed. She handed him a pair of slippers, before sitting down next to him.
"I don't know where the TV control is." She said.
"So... Go clean your face, take that makeup off, even take a shower if you have to, and I'll get Rosie to help me find it. And also for her to make some tea, bring some snacks and we'll watch the movie together. The two of us or she can come watch it with us and we'll be here..." He wiped the tears that were falling from her face. "To be with you. You can cry, feel angry, feel sad.... We will listen and take you in."
"You don't exist." He laughed, a little confused. "Seriously, Lewis, you just took me in.... Even though people are telling me about my past."
"But I'm seeing you from now, a woman who bloody loves her job, her cousin to the point of coming to the place that gave her trauma to be with her, someone brave who never gave up on what she wanted. Someone amazing that people insist on hurting." She hugged him one more time before he got up and went after Rosie, who was anxiously waiting at the edge of the stairs.
"Alright?"
"Where's the TV remote?" He asked.
"In the second drawer in the desk."
"The three of us are going to watch Grinch." The man smiled. "We just need a cuppa and get some snacks."
Rosie chatted with her husband and kissed him goodnight before packing everything up by the pilot and heading to the room where her cousin was. They put the movie on the television, with the younger girl lying in the middle of the two of them. Rosie hugged her, running her fingers between strands of her hair, while Hamilton felt his hand being pulled by the girl, leaving her back against his right leg. He knew she wasn't paying that much attention, from feeling her fingers wander through his rings, so he squeezed account of her fingers, seeing the smile that appeared on the woman’s face.
They ended up sleeping all scrunched up together before the half of the movie.
….................................................
When morning came, Lewis left a note on the table next to her mobile phone, written.
"hey, had to go home, text me when you wake up. your cousin has my number. - Love, LH"
It was December 24th, Christmas Eve. She woke up around noon, alone in bed. The girl didn't want to get up as soon as she remembered all the humiliation of the day before, being called a slut in front of the man she was having a chance to have something with. She sighed loudly, getting up and going after her mobile phone, finding his note. A smile appeared on her lips, he was the best person she could have ever met.
After putting on some comfortable clothes, she went downstairs and made herself a cup of tea, soon hearing the front stall open and Bandit rushing over to her. The woman cracked a smile and took the boy in her arms, watching Rosie with the baby and Jamie with the groceries.
“Oh, look who’s up! Good morning.” The husband smiled, leaving the groceries on the table.
“Oy, Jams.” She smiled, getting her nephew a cup of water.
“How are you feeling, darling?” Rosie said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“Better.” She sighed. “By the way, do you have his number?”
“Oh, someone is fancying Lewis?” Jamie asked, putting the groceries away.
“Maybe. But don’t be cheeky, we’re just trying our luck, okay?”
“Sure! But he’s buff! And tidy.”
“You’re so cheesy, baby.” Rosie kissed him on the cheek.
She got his number and by 2pm, she laid on the bed, texting him.
oi! It’s me ;)
lh: me who?
lh: jk
lh: good to know you went after my number
after yesterday?
i would be an arse if i didn’t
lh: ok
lh: you have a point
anyway
thanks for yesterday, even if it didn’t go as you planned
i’m happy
you’re the kindest
lh: anything for you
maybe we could go out again?
before new years?
lh: i would love to
but maybe a home date
nothing in public
not wanting to repeat yesterday's horror
lh: agreed
The day was very quiet, they stayed at home and prepared everything that would be needed in the evening and on the 25th, being with the couple was such a relaxing thing, they were amazing people who were always available for a chat and were grateful that she was so committed to helping them. During the afternoon she played with her nephew in the backyard, making a snowman, snow angels and a little snowball war. Even though the day marked more than one bad memory in her life, she would not let it hold her back, for she is living in her present and not in the past.
From afar, she could also see Lewis playing with his niece and nephew inside the house. The woman cracked a smile at that, waving to him as soon as the man noticed.
Meanwhile, Hamilton had just stopped playing with the children, making his way to the kitchen and watching his half-sisters chatting. He grabbed a cup of tea and sat down at the table, picking up his mobile phone and trying not to pay attention to their conversation until they decided to include him.
"So you went out with her?" One asked.
"We heard some rubbish things. Of you walking out of the middle of a conversation and pulling her along."
"And that you didn't want to hear what they were saying about her."
"They called her a slut." He replied, not taking his eyes off his phone.
"Well..."
"People change." He shrugged. "She didn't want to go out downtown. She hates Christmas and those stuff, but she still went with me and people were fucking arseholes to her." The pilot sighed, remembering the image from the night before, her running into the bedroom, her face wet from tears. "She doesn't deserve this nonsense hate that her old classmates have for her."
"You didn't spend the night at home." They changed the subject before he got too angry.
"Yeah? And?"
"You were with her?"
"Yes. Rosie and I lay with her and watched a movie, she slept cuddled in the middle of us." He took a deep breath, leaving his cup in the sink. "She's changed. She's a grown woman who still bloody suffers from everything she's done, but at least she's managed to get back on her feet and live her life."
He left the kitchen, going to the back of the house.
From then on, days 24 and 25 passed quickly, as did days 26 and 27 and soon Hamilton knew he should be heading back to London, there would be a New Year's Eve party with other drivers at Russell's house and he had been invited. An idea popped into his head and soon he was in front of Rosie's house, ringing the bell. The woman's husband answered.
"Lewis! You can come in! The girls are in the kitchen." He cracked a playful smile. "I know who you're after."
"Jam... Mate, I swear..." He cracked a smile too, slapping his shoulder twice before walking quickly to the kitchen.
When he saw the scene, his heart started beating faster. She was dirty with flour as she made cookies with her nephew, her smile was huge and the boy's laughter could be heard from afar. Rosie was holding her daughter as she turned up the music. The Londoner was having her movie moment, the soft laughter, the wonderful family and a man who loved her watching from afar.
"Oi! Am I interrupting something?" The dark-skinned man said, walking slowly.
"You can come in!" Rosie said with a smile, as the other woman tried to clean herself up.
"Can we talk?" He said as he got close to the younger woman; she removed her apron and they walked out into the yard through the kitchen door, the tension in her could be seen from afar, so he held both of her hands, standing very close to her. "Calm down, it's nothing bad."
"I always hope for the worst."
"With me, it's always for the best." They both smiled before he took a deep breath and looked at her. "I'm going back to London tomorrow, I need to sort some things out.... But that's beside the point. I've been invited to a New Year's Eve party by my teammate and I was wondering if you wanted to go as my date."
"Oh. Lewis, that's... I don't know if I have the right clothes for the occasion!" She laughed softly, placing her hand on his cheek. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure! I want to introduce you to people who will love you, who will treat you nicely and see that you deserve nothing but the best." He put his hands around her waist. "And don't worry about clothes that I can manage."
"I'd love to go with you." The woman kissed his cheek. "I'd have to talk to Rosie, though. But I don't think she'd be mad, she's the best and as soon as she can, she's going to spend a weekend in London with me."
"I can't wait to see you in a gala dress. You’ll look so lush." He murmured, bringing his face closer with hers. It was an automatic movement, like muscle memory, their noses already brushing against each other from their faces being so close. A little more and they'd be with their lips together, however a loud Rosie saying that the cookies would burn broke the mood, making them both laugh before heading back inside.
Hamilton was invited to spend the day at their house, which he didn't refuse as he felt very comfortable with his family. The two's passionate glances could be seen from afar by Rosie and James, who were smiling, as if they were playing cupid. They might have spent the whole day on the outskirts of the house, without revisiting other places in the town or buying different things at the local market, but for them, they didn't have to, because each other's company was already enough.
When Hamilton left, the designer was cornered by her cousin and her husband - who were certainly far more invested in everything than she was.
"You guys spent all day together and no kiss? Nothing?" Rosie said in exasperation.
"It's just that we spent the whole day with you guys."
"You could have disappeared and we wouldn't have given a shit, you're a couple in love!" Exclaimed James.
"We're not a couple."
"Yet."
She laughed low, running her hand over her face. "Anyway... I'm leaving tomorrow." She could see the sadness in their gaze. "I'm going back with Lewis, he invited me to a dinner party with his friends. We're spending the new year together." Their reaction was squealing and hugging the girl.
"Then we'll pack your bag and tomorrow morning you'll be waiting for him and you can be at peace together in London. Without horrible people and privacy." The older woman put her hands
on her cousin's shoulders, pushing her up to her room.
…
December 31, 2022. Last day of the year. She was sitting on the floor, the day started badly, she managed to break a plate when she went to make breakfast, cutting her palm. Then the shower wasn't getting hot, then the heel she had separated to wear that night, broke just as she decided to test it. And to make matters worse, it had been 5 years since she had drunk herself to the point where she couldn't stand up and tried to take her own life. Her head was leaning against the bed, mobile phone in hand, part of her wanted to cancel tonight's plans and hide under the covers until the first of next year. Slowly she dialled the pilot's number, listening to the sound of the call until he answered.
“Hey, love. Alright?”
“No. Everything went wrong.” She murmured.
He was going out with his fellow driver friends, they really needed someone to pick their outfits for tonight, however, when he heard her voice, so low and weepy, he walked from them to a quieter place.
“What happened?”
“I cut my hand, my shower stopped working, the heel I was going to wear tonight also broke and to top it all off, today is not a day with very good memories…”
“Hey… This must be very frustrating.” He said in a soft tone.
“It is.” She sobbed, passing a hand in her face to wipe the tears away.
“Okay, how about… I can get a new shoe for you and I can also pick you up… So you’ll get ready with me for the party.”
“That sounds good… I live close to Green Park station.”
“I’m at Picadilly… Pretty close, so as soon as we finish here, I’ll pick you up. Okay, love?”
“Okay.” She smiled.
“Because they don't have any fashion sense.” They chuckled together before hanging up.
She took a deep breath before getting up again, looking at herself in the mirror, even if she was going to go and get ready at Lewis' house, she couldn't look like that. Slowly, she packed her make-up and an extra outfit into a backpack, then put on a nicer outfit; she also washed her face and put on some perfume - it didn't matter if she was going to shower later and would have to reapply, what mattered was to be smelling good for him. He asked if she could go to the shop he was in. He wanted to know if the heel would fit her, so he walked there. As that boutique catered to more famous people, everything was more discreet and safe, no one could see from the outside what was going on inside, so neither of them would have to worry about people snooping in their lives.
She walked in and was impressed at how beautiful the place was, even feeling underdressed there. Hamilton walked over to her and greeted her with a hug, leaving a kiss on her cheek. He led her over to where some of his friends were, introducing her to the others, before getting straight to the point about which shoe she thought was the best. They took a while to choose which one would be ideal, but they managed to agree on a model.
When they arrived at his mansion, the man took her directly to the large bathroom of his master bedroom, leaving her free to shower and get ready while he went to his wardrobe, which also had a bathroom.
Later, when he was ready, he went to where she was, getting jaw dropped to see her, the purple dress had been perfect on her body, her hair was loose and she wore the jewels that he had separated especially for her. Noticing that he was watching her, she cracked a silly smile, walking over to him and putting her arms around his neck, thanking him for everything and that she had no words to say how amazing he was, from welcoming her to being willing to introduce his friends to her. They drove off with his driver, so the journey was quiet to George Russell's mansion.
As she entered, she felt the distinctive atmosphere of the place, people had no idea who she was - and that made her so relieved. During the first few hours, she was introduced to his friends, made short conversations and took a few sips of water. She was more focused on how he introduced her, as his partner and also said how amazing her work was. When he reached his friends, now mostly with their respective girlfriends, she felt calmer, seeing other women also taking the same seat she was in. The girls joined in and the bomb of questions - completely respectful, began.
"Where did you two meet?"
"What's he like?"
"He is the one who fell in love first?
The personal questions were answered, but every time it got into the relationship thing, she just said they were taking it slow, taking their time.
Meanwhile, Hamilton was being questioned by his friends - and even Toto had entered the conversation. They were already more playful, wanting to know more spicy aspects. The driver laughed at the haste they were in to find out - besides having Sebastian Vettel with a 'where did I go wrong?' expression, which earned even more laughs.
"We haven't even kissed yet." The older man confessed.
Even more questions surfaced.
"We haven't had a moment together... That's all. I want to take things the right way, she deserves only the best from me."
"And that's how you win a woman, boys." Vettel added and the group burst into laughter.
It was almost midnight, everyone with glasses of champagne except her, at first Lewis hadn't noticed, but the moment he saw it, he handed his own over and was ready to look for another.
"I don't drink, Lew." She said close to his ear.
"Sorry." He took the cup back.
"Five years. Today." The pilot turned his face close to hers, surprised.
"Wow…"
"Actually, it's January first, but I prefer to count it as today."
Then he quickly left his cup with a waiter, putting his hands around her waist, leaving a kiss on her shoulder. The action left her confused, it was okay in case he wanted to drink, it wasn't his problem.
"I'm not going to drink. I want to be able to enjoy your kiss."
Before she could answer, the countdown was on.
5
4
3
2
1
Happy New Year!
She didn't wait for him to speak or do anything, she just pulled her body against his, bringing their lips together in a passionate kiss, passing her tongue into his lips until he opened his mouth to reciprocate it properly, letting their tongues move together in a rhythm. His hands went to her waist, caressing the spot and pulling her even closer. The kiss ended with little pecks and goofy smiles.
“I waited so long for this.” He murmured against her ear.
“Me too…”
They ended up calling for an early night, saying they were too tired and she had to work the next day - it was a lie, she would only be back on January 2nd. Soon they were laying in bed, cuddling.
“I’m proud of you.” She looked at him, a bit confused. “Five years is a long time.”
“Thanks…”
“There’s something else?”
“What?”
“About it. You can tell me, or not, only if you feel comfortable.”
“So…” She sighed, sitting on the bed. “I was an alcoholic, and it was getting worse, my family… Didn’t care, except for Rosie. I’ve lost my job, my partner and was losing my flat. Let’s say that at the end of 2017 was horrible for me. And with my drunk mind… I thought it would be better if I wasn’t around anymore.” He sat up, putting both of his hands on her face, looking the most worried she had ever seen. “After that… I decided to get clean, mostly because of Rosie, she said that I should give life a chance and that everyone who did bad for me would get their consequences. Then I went to rehab, started studying what I loved, made goals. It was hard, still it is… There were some days that I just wanted a sip, but I knew I shouldn’t, so I resorted to other coping mechanisms and they weren’t healthy, at all.” She lifted the shirt he gave her to wear, showing her inner thighs. “But I’m also clean… Almost two years. I really put my life back together. Not that I don’t have bad days or sometimes things may trigger me… Mostly, I’m fine, on my meds, clean and sober.” She didn't notice when tears started to fall, nor when he was hugging her, stroking her hair and leaving light kisses on her face. Her eyes closed, enjoying his show of affection.
"I'm proud of you, for the amazing woman you've become and that you've managed to get back on your feet." He kissed her forehead, before placing a quick kiss on her lips. "You're amazing and I'm going to give you the world, if it's possible, I'll go to the moon and back to show you how amazing I think you are."
"I... I'm completely in love with you." She admitted, surrendering to the embrace and causing them to fall onto the bed. The woman ran her hands through his tresses, soon beginning to trace the tattoos she could reach, as she watched his smile grow wider and wider. The pilot's hands hugged his waist, caressing the spot. "And I hope you know that I'm going to do everything I can to be by your side. Every race I can go to, I'll be there, if not I'll be here, watching on TV. Regardless of whether you win or lose, I will always be with open arms and welcome you with kisses." She left several kisses along his bare collarbone. "Because life isn't just about winning, it's about the journey."
"I really want you to meet the rest of my family." He murmurs. "They will love you."
"And you need to meet my friends." She laughed, starting a kiss.
This time, their lips were more desperate for each other's touch, like it was urgent, like the only purpose of life was to have this passionate kiss. Their tongues were moving in a unique rhythm as his hands roamed her back and she held his shoulders tightly. Hamilton's touches became lower and lower, reaching down to her thighs, where he touched them tenderly, as if they were fleeting and he wanted to remember that sensation forever.
Her kisses descended to his neck, which he responded with a low moan, grabbing the other's waist, pressing against his body. Her legs were on the side of his body, pinning him against the mattress.
"Baby... If we keep this up, I swear... I don't know if I'll hold on." He pulled her face so they could look at each other. "I don't want to push you into anything, I want it to be the best way possible."
"Okay. I agree." She cracked a smile, getting off his lap and cuddling up next to him. She left small kisses on his chest, before rubbing her face against his body.
"What?"
"Thank you. For thinking of me above sex."
"Always. You're my Christmas miracle."
"Damn it, Lewis!" She started laughing uncontrollably. "I still hate Christmas you know, don't you? You just showed me that I don't have to hate that town as much as I do, even if the people are awful."
"But..." He couldn't stop laughing either. "Okay, that was pretty dumb."
"But at least... It was you being my arse."
They continued to laugh for a few more minutes, until tiredness hit and they fell asleep like that, hugging each other so tightly as they were afraid of losing the other in the middle of the night.
Before Valentine's Day even came, he was already posting pictures of her, with declarations of love, it didn't matter to anyone why they were together and who she was. They were them and no one had the power to intervene in their little bubble of happiness. At the beginning of the season, he took her to her first race, where she met more people from his world and was even more in awe of how amazing he was. It seemed like every day she was impressed with new parts of him, he was more like a little box of good surprises.
"I never thought I'd be here, in this position, watching a race and cheering for my boyfriend, but... Lewis changed me. And I'm very grateful for that." She commented to Angela - who approved of the relationship before they even had their first kiss, not least because she loved that her best friend was happy.
"You've changed him too. For the better." Her words caused the designer to fill her eyes with tears. The pilot was ready to put on his helmet and go to his car, but he stopped to give her a kiss, yet he found her all weepy.
"What happened, honey?"
"Blame her." She said with a smile, pointing at Angela. "She said some nice words to me."
He giggled, leaving a kiss on the girl's lips, before putting on his helmet.
"I believe in you." She murmured before he got into the car.
#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x y/n#lewis hamilton angst#lewis hamilton fluff#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton fanfiction#lh#lh44#f1 fanfiction#f1 imagine
266 notes
·
View notes
Text
Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 22
Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27
Oystein was having a slow day. He was exhausted and annoyed but the moment the bell on the door sounded, he was ready to send Varg's groupies out of the door.
"If you're looking for Varg he's not-" Oystein looked up from the magazine he was reading and there she was. Y/n stood sheepishly, hands in her pockets and a nervous smile on her lips.
"Oh..hey...hey how- how are you?" Oystein stuttered as she approached the counter.
"I'm alright. I wanted to come by and thank you for the flowers...and food. It was really sweet and you didn't have to-
"Y/n...come on." Oystein shook his head letting her know that even if she despised him, he would have sent something.
"Your parents actually came by a few times. Your mom said you wanted to come by but you didn't want to upset me..." Oystein watch her fidget with her hands and could tell she was uncomfortable.
"Come to my office, we can talk for a minute." He extended his arm towards the door but she hesitated.
"Trust me, it's okay." Oystein added. She walked into his office and noticed the picture was gone and nowhere to be seen. She felt a small sense of ease as she sat in the chair in front of his desk and he pulled his chair to sit opposite her.
"Can you give this to your parents for me? It's a thank you from my family and I don't want to forget to give it to you." She handed the card to him and he took it.
"Yeah I'll get it to them." He nodded.
"I see you shaved your mustache." She gestures to his face and he smiles.
"Yeah well, I got some less than stellar reviews on it so I figured it had to go." Oystein gave a smile smirk and she nodded her head.
"Hey, I know this is super late and I don't deserve your consideration or forgiveness but I wanted you to know how insanely sorry I am for...everything. How I treat you, the things I did and said, how I was about Pelle...I didn't know about your brother but that's not an excuse for how I handled Pelle's death." Oystein spoke sincerely and Y/n could feel herself allowing his words to sink in.
"Honestly, you're probably the only person who knows what's going through my head right now. Finding Pelle like that...finding my brother...you feel gutted. Completely and utterly hollowed." Oystein carefully reached out and took her hand.
"Don't let that be what you hold of him. I've been fighting that in my fucked up brain since it happened. Remember your brother the way you loved him." Y/n nodded in agreeance.
"My aunt told me you called during Shiva." She sniffled and he rubbed his thumb under her eye to catch the tears.
"I wanted to be there for you so badly but I knew I had fucked things up so royally, I didn't want to make it worse. I didn't want you to feel like I was somehow rubbing it in or trying to cause you pain. I just...I want to fucking hug you so bad." Oystein explained. It hurt him to see her this hurt.
"I want that. I want to be able to feel safe and comforted in your arms but I can't ask you to be two people Oystein. I can't accept the way you portray yourself, I can't handle everything that comes with Euronymous." She explained sadly.
"You know who I am. I don't want to pretend losing Pelle didn't hurt anymore. I don't want to sit around and watch something that I created out of love turn into something that I hate. I've been pretending to be this shell of a human for so long trying to protect myself from my own pain that I forgot what it felt like to hear this music and truly connect. You were right, music doesn't have to be one thing. It can be universal." She smiled listening to Oystein talk. This was the guy she fell for. This is the one she missed terribly and wanted to spend every moment with. She never thought she would see him again but here her was.
"I can't believe you shaved it off. It truly was hideous though." She let got of his hand and ran her thumb over his upper lip.
"Yeah it didn't feel like me. This feels more my speed." He nodded knowing she was happy he had gotten rid of it.
"You also need to dye your roots." She ruffled his hair making him laugh out loud for what seemed like the first time in a long time.
"Well maybe you can come by my new place and help me with that." Oystein said it casually and Y/n bit her bottom lip.
"No bad behavior, just having a beer and dying my hair. Nothing crazy, I promise." Oystein held his hand up and she rolled her eyes.
"As if anything with you has ever been sane." She said checking her watch.
"I've got to get to work. Hammeed has been really cool about me being off so long, I don't want to be late." She stood up and Oystein walked her to the door.
"Oh hey I want you to have this." Oystein ran to his desk and tore a piece of paper off the notepad before writing his number on it.
"This is my number now. No roommates so if I don't answer, I'm probably here...you have the number here so..." She took it and looked at it as they walked out of the office.
"Oh look who it is. You know face fucking on company time reflects badly on the label. You should really stay focused on getting my record figured out." Varg said turning his nose up at Y/n.
"Are you friends with this guy now? I thought he was like stalking you guys?" Y/n asked not even bothering to speak to Varg.
"I'd watch my mouth if I were you. I follow no one. Clearly you need to catch up or fuck off." Varg stepped closer to Y/n and Oystein slid his body in front of her.
"Kristian, isn't it? You should really put something in place of your Scorpions patch. Your jacket looks a little naked." She laughed.
"It's Varg, Cunt."
"No one cares, Clown." Y/n didn't hesitate to fire back at Varg and Oystein was baffled at her bravery. He admired so many things about Y/n but one of his favorite things about her is that she didn't fear anything or anyone.
She put her hand on Oystein's back and squeezed his forearm with her other hand.
"I'll call you." She said sweetly. He gave her a nod and watched her walk towards the door.
"Oh good luck with the patch search, Larg!" She called out and before Varg could correct her, she shut the door in his face. He was fuming looking at Oystein before storming back down to join the others in the circle common area. Oystein couldn't help but feel like he got a little piece of himself back again.
#R!Euronymous#R!Euronymous x Y/n#Film: Lords of Chaos#One Shot Series#Alkaline#Alkaline Series#Rory Culkin#Culkin Cult#22/35
74 notes
·
View notes
Text
Byler Fic Recs
I haven't posted some fic recs in a while so I thought I would!
Here are some ones I love:
In Undertow (M) by olliecoddle (@souverian-are-we): This is my favorite thing I'm reading right now. It's. Just. So. Good.
The Wheeler’s lakehouse was a two-story wooden building with white siding and blue shutters on each of the little windows. It sat on the edge of a large blue-green lake, a long backyard full of tall tufted grass that ended in a wooden dock extending out over the water. Will had been to the Wheeler’s lakehouse twice as a child, once when he was eight and again when he was sixteen. Now, he was twenty-nine and pulling up to the long driveway of the house in his beaten-up Ford Escort, his stomach in nervous knots that he was trying to calm with a half-full can of ginger ale.
or, four months after one byers/wheeler couple breaks up, another gets married. and, of course, will and mike are both the best men. and, of course, there is a plot to get them back together. nothing goes to plan.
one soft infested summer (M) by wheelersboy (@lucasvenkman)" The Stoned Byler to ever be stoned. And it's sexy and emotional and just delicious summer vibes. And I'll forever be thankful for the Director's Cut. 😉
The Party spend their last summer before college together at Summerfest in Milwaukee. Oh yeah, and they're stoners.
My Teeth In Your Neck (T) by @foodiewithdahoodie: Boarding school, sexual tension, and fencing. It's dope.
Mike and Will used to be friends. Best friends! But after one fight they couldn't come back from during the summer, they haven't spoken to each other since. The only time they cross paths is on the piste, with epee swords brandished, as fencing rivals for their opposing boarding schools - Hawkins High vs Lenora Hills Prep. This year is no different, except it kind of is. Something pulls them together and this time they can't escape it. Because there's no Mike without Will and there's no Will without Mike. Simple as that.
the strawberries are dying (T) by @eggowls Rated T: the world needs more historical au Byler fics, and this one is perfect. Beautifully written and an interesting premise. I have to catch up on this one.
At the height of the stock market crash, the Wheelers are the richest family in Roane County and in need of domestic servants to fulfill their estate's needs. In a bout of desperation, they end up hiring the Byers family, much to everyone’s (except Nancy’s, who has a crush on Jonathan) chagrin.
However, in the midst of it all, two outcasted young boys from completely different lives find a light in each other. And—slowly—their lives begin to intertwine to the point of no return.
need, lie, mean, cry (T) by @willow-lark: a good shorty fic with lots of angst!
Nobody needs Mike Wheeler. He probably wouldn't be so mad about it if Will hadn't lied and made him think otherwise.
Let's Go Crazy Together (but not like this) (M) by Julia_Skysong: Byler hate each other and end up sharing a room at rehab. It's awkward. I'm only halfway through, but I'm loving it.
Anger, fear, trauma, grief. One turned to alcohol. One turned to drugs. Now, somehow, they've ended up sharing a room at the same mental hospital. Will and Mike are stuck, forced to work through their issues together, for better or for worse.
things i can't say (T) by @chiquitablanquita. Switched notebook trope, my beloved. I really liked the writing here.
Will’s sketches contain a confession: he’s in love with his best friend.
Unfortunately, his best friend’s journal looks a lot like his sketchbook.
If You Stay (M) by Flurryofstarz. A The Proposal AU, Byler edition. It's fucking cute. Impatiently awaiting an update.
Faced with the threat of deportation, career-oriented Mike Wheeler says he's engaged to his hapless assistant, Will Byers. Will commits to the lie while imposing a few conditions of his own. With a skeptical immigration official waiting for them to slip up, the two must work together to fool their friends and families into believing that their once-strained relationship has since evolved into true love.
But what happens when they start to believe the lie too?
Or, the fic inspired by the enemies-to-lovers rom-com, The Proposal (2009).
he could be a bee to a blossom (E) by anonymous: I loooveed the writing. Truly a Tragedy that it's anonymous.
Mike reached down and grabbed something. He was seated on the edge of the bed, curled towards him with his knee resting near Will’s pillow. He had a carton of freshly washed and cut fruit in his hand. “I already went to the grocery store and got, like, a million things. We could probably shelter in place here for a month and a half.”
Mike said it in a way that was not remotely sexy, but it still made something in Will’s stomach heat. He almost felt like purring, kneading his hands into the mattress with satisfaction. [My alpha got that for me. My alpha is making sure I’m healthy and hydrated. My alpha is taking such good care of me.]
A record scratch went off in Will’s head. Christ alive, Mike was NOT his alpha.
(A/B/O AU… And they were roommates!)
Be mine through the Hawkinspocalypse (and I'll be yours forever) (E) by TikaWayward: I love this whole series. It's unique and sexy and well written.
Mike was long. Long frame extended in a stretch. Long limbs shaking from exhaustion. Long fingers clenched around ripped sheets. Long hair damp with sweat, sticking to his long pale nape and freckled shoulders. Even his back seemed long as he tensed. Will had to commit this view to memory, engrave it in his mind forever. Even if it was the only time they ever shared such intimacy, even if Mike had only asked him for help because he was there, familiar, convenient, and they needed his heat to stop as soon as possible. There are goddamned monsters out there Will, I can’t be in heat right now, I can’t! He needed to revere this moment.
Mike truly was the most beautiful creature Will had laid his eyes on.
__________________________________________________________________
Or Mike presents as an omega in the middle of his patrol with Will in a monster infested forest.
The Best Ever Death Metal Band Out of Hawkins (M) by olliecoddle (@souverian-are-we): uhmmmmm, I'm obsessed with this. Rock star angsty Byler.
Will had the same pre-show ritual before every gig he ever performed. About twenty minutes before he had to go on stage, he would lock himself in any confined space he could find. In a bathroom stall, his dressing room, the maintenance closet, he would turn off the lights and hide for a few minutes. Today, though, it was five minutes before he had to go on stage, the clock ticking down, and he had spent the last half hour wandering around the venue looking for Mike Wheeler.
Will needed to talk to him.
or, the party has a band. will and mike make out on stage. for the bit, of course. it causes problems.
I’m a Wreck (Without You Here) (M) by @talkingtothelights. I'm only on the first chapter but it's so heartbreaking and emotional. Good shit.
Mike has been living 2,200 miles away from his family and hometown for the past fourteen years. He rarely visits, but when he receives heartbreaking news, he’s forced to return home for a funeral. It’s in this unfortunate chapter of life that Mike must come to terms with the consequences of abruptly running away from home and perhaps reconnect with the one person he’s tried his damnedest to forget about.
not strong enough to be your man (T) by @perexcri. The prose is fucking beautiful. I really enjoyed this one.
He swallows down a flurry of all the things he wants to say – every moment and untold truth and aching thought that’s bruised his mind for years – but it comes out so plain, so stark and oddly-jagged in the silence following the lighting, taking up space where thunder should be:
“I meant it, Will. You’re not an inconvenience.”
Will shakes his head and turns.
Mike wants to feel like he's meaningful, like he's an active part of his own life - worthwhile.
It's a good thing Will needs him now more than ever.
Right?
Make Believe (E) by FlurryofStarz. One of all time favorites. Amazing slow burn and super interesting a/b/o dynamics. Mike centric. I cannot wait until the plot point I think is going to happen is revealed. 👀
There's absolutely no way to know what a person will present as ahead of time, but Mike's never been more certain about something in his life. Will Byers is going to be an Omega--a male Omega--and the second that happens, he'll lose everything. Some knothead Alpha like Troy or James will claim him as their own and no one will be able to stop them. Luckily, the Party has a plan. It might be complicated and unconventional. It might not even be legal, but it's something and that's all Will really needs. Something. And Mike's more than willing to try it if it means saving Will.
But what if Will isn't the one who needs saving?
*** if you’re listed here and want to be tagged let ms know!
#byler#byler fanfic rec#fic recs#will byers#mike wheeler#stranger things#if youre in the mood for some good shit.
77 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lostbelt Servants Often Don't Work as Chaldea Servants
I've reached a conclusion on why I dislike servant x Ritsuka pairings so much, and ended up spending a few hours thinking about some other thoughts.
When it comes to the gacha game format, you don't have enough time to develop every character equally, and certainly not the way fgo goes about it (Oh boy another lb6 centered event? You really shouldn't have Nasu...). As a result, oftentimes servants only ever get interludes (and sometimes events, but even those are shaky) to develop their bond with Ritsuka, and this is even worse for lostbelt/singularity villains, because they have to shed an entire dynamic and replace it with a new one. Sometimes this can work fine, or even improve the character, such as with characters like Cu Alter, Hessian Lobo, Jeanne Alter, Jason, and even arguably Avicebron, but oftentimes they can sort of... flounder.
Cu and Jeanne Alter succeeded because fundamentally there was that initial gap that comes from an enemy, not only because they were a villain but because we simply haven't developed a bond yet. So they showed us it, they showed Cu Alter learning to trust and rely on us in his interludes, we saw Jeanne do the same across multiple events. They didn't just abandon their old identity they had to built a new one off the corpses strewn by their old one.
Characters like Anastasia... don't get that, they get a facsimile of a bond developed because they don't want to restart from the very beginning of the relationship pole or be obligated to use all of their lostbelt characteristics.
So rather than showing Ritsuka and Anastasia growing a close bond and her developing a crush on him, we get one dream sequence where Anastasia confided in him that she kind of hates the people who killed her parents. Then it's just... "oh my master is utterly adorable" from her and then "Why don't you kiss her, master?" from Medea
None of this was earned or developed, at best it was implied because other people say similar stuff about Ritsuka, but notably, none of those scenes include Anastasia. They're writing this interlude like it's an alternate timeline where Anastasia was a main servant who watched you grow and develop similar to Mash (Thanks to @300iqprower for making me realize this). There is no unique relationship, there's no event where they were forced together, we just have to assume that at some point Anatasia and Ritsuka hungout a bunch and she got a crush on him.
It feels more like a filled in template for a servant-master relationship than anything actually developing. Why does Anastasia like Ritsuka? Because he's nice, trustworthy, and strong. Great, the same applies to Mash, Ushiwakamaru, Melusine and so so many other servants. There is nothing to me that says she would love Ritsuka for any reason unique to Anastasia, in the same way I can look at her and Kadoc and see why they love each other in the crypter manga. There's no Ritsuka discussing how he can relate to having his opportunity to grow into an adult ruined, there's no Ritsuka having to fight by her side for an extended period of time, there's no Ritsuka helping her come to terms with her family's death, it's just... nothing. It's Anastasia having a crush on Ritsuka because it's Ritsuka.
And like... we have to see this this with so many servants. As much as I love Barghest and find Melusine interesting, to a massive degree they were made worse after lb6. The desire to protect Fae Britain and Aurora respectively was an intrinsic part of their character, and when none of those exist, there's just a big hole in their motivations and relationships. But rather than write elaborate depictions of what changes in their personality there is, Melusine decides that Ritsuka is their lover and Barghest does... cooking? And also wants to fuck Master sometimes.
Worse than remaining stagnant a lot of lostbelt characters actively plateau. Stuck in a hell where all their characterization is dependent on the unique setting of a lostbelt, but also being physically unable to do anything with that setting because then they have to deal with the baggage associated with it.
This is to the point where the only characters who become better or remain well written after their lostbelts are overwhelming the ones who completely sideset this issue. Yu Mei-Ren and Qin? Popped into throne of spirits. Percival, Habetrot, Aesclepius, and Gareth? Literally completely different characters. William Tell, and Odysseus? Lostbelt fuckery. So they develop a new character from scratch and are forced to deal with that.
But a lot of servants don't get that. We know Melusine's past and generic character traits, the game implies (doesn't show) how they grow to like Ritsuka, so we don't get to see any more of that develop. Rather we get to see whatever they decide they would fit best for the present, which typically is uninteresting and repeated.
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
DATING THALIA GRACE HEADCANNONS
pairing: thalia grace x gn!reader
features: fluff, established relationship, implied wlw, possessiveness, jealousy, slight violence and swearing !
⚡️ notes: i had to re-write this cuz my whole thing fucking deleted omg. ANYWAYS! sorry i haven’t been posting.. writers block is real..
this girl loves you SO MUCH!! you’re her everything - you’re her best friend, family, whatever, she just loves you <3
also something i wanna add quickly, my personal headcannon about the hunters of artemis is that their oath about romantic relationships only extends to men. otherwise they’re allowed as many gfs as they want - as long as it doesn’t interfere with the hunt!
^ AND I KNOW IN TRIALS OF APOLLO IT SAYS OTHERWISE BUT STILL.
she’s so proud of the fact that you two are together and that she’s YOUR girlfriend
y’know what her biggest flex is? you. (and maybe the fact she’s artemis’ lieutenant but who’s asking 🤷)!
she would scream it from the rooftops if you’d let her. she would do anything you asked, she’s obsessed!
she’s super protective of you and will beat anyone up who hurts or makes you uncomfortable. same with anyone who flirts with you, they brush your waist? boom. now they have 3 broken fingers.
this goes vice versa, if anyone flirts with her she’ll shut them down immediately and let you go off at them if that’s what you want.
so in short, you’re both super possessive of each other and get jealous easily. honestly, couple goals 🤝
communication is everything to her! as her mother didn’t really respect her boundaries, she needs to know what you do and don’t like. same with you knowing what she’s uncomfortable with. that’s why your relationship is so great: you talk things through instead of getting angry at each other!
(i’m not letting any ‘doomed yuri angst, they can’t communicate and break up’ shit happening around here. my heart couldn’t take it.)
speaking of past family, her current one matters a lot to her. she would absolutely love if you and annabeth got a long, but if you didn’t she’d be fine with you guys at least not hating each other. (though of course annie loves you, you’re awesome!!!!)
she defo lends you her jackets a lot
and it’s not in a possessive/‘claiming’ way either, she genuinely loves seeing you in her clothes, it makes her happy.
i also feel like if demigods had working phones, she’d text whenever she could!
(and if you aren’t apart of the hunt) she’d especially text you if you went on a quest. then she’d spam you constantly, asking how you are and whether or not you’re bleeding out or dying.)
speaking of going on quests, if the huntresses were going somewhere in your direction, she’d try to help out and spend time with you — while also asking you whether or not you wanna abandon the quest and join her and the huntresses (jokingly.. unless..?)
random, but when you had your first kiss, she accidentally hit a nearby tree with lightning :) !
#angie writes#dating thalia grace headcanons#thalia grace x reader#thalia grace x gn!reader#thalia grace x you#x reader#x gn! reader#x y/n#x you#nblw#wlw#thalia grace#cabin 8#percy jackson fandom#pjo#rick riordan#dating headcanons
16 notes
·
View notes
Note
out of curiosity
do you have any thoughts about Maggie?
i think it's really funny that the protagonist of pact is like. some Comically Normal, increasingly-pale, interminably haunted guy the universe hates who spends 45% of his life minimum shaking and/or throwing up. and then the plucky charming girl who says things like 'drat' and 'fiddlesticks' and has a tragic ya-protag origin story and is dealing with a classic ya-protag ominous prophecy is the side character. using goblins is ostensibly possible to frame as a likable underdog trait, in contrast to Cool Shit like faeries or demons. by all accounts blake scans as someone who should show up once in the ya fantasy novel about maggie's life to serve as a bit of character development for her & then never receive a feature again except for a singular piece of irrelevant background dialogue in which it's offhandedly mentioned that they found his sopping wet flayed corpse on the street. not even a notable street, either, just some random street. And Yet. he's the protagonist instead of her.
and, like, wildbow knows this. the funniest part of this whole thing is that when wildbow went "who is the most Iconic YA Protag Material in pact, i want to put a pact reference into worm," the answer wasn't blake, it was, obviously, maggie. it's maggie's world blake's just living in it. he straight cannot catch a break. cannot even be the protagonist of the book he's a fucking protagonist of.
i digress. one last sidenote before i get into talking abt maggie's interlude: it's really fun that before it we get a firsthand look at how the Batshit and Harrowing experience of being a disadvantaged practitioner (unable to lie, experiencing the horrors at all times) will straight up turn you into a guy in a horror movie who goes around looking disheveled and shaking and discussing ominous portents, and then the interlude itself depicts how comically absurd that looks from an outside perspective. love the practitioner in maggie's interlude. out there delivering a classic vague & ominous horror novel Foreshadowing Statement to our archetypal protag maggie, and she's the only one who actually experiences the genre awareness to go "ohh, okay, i'm in a horror novel," and prevent her entire family from dying badly about it.
and the thing about this is that it works flawlessly as part of her "YA protag who is for some reason a side character here and not the protag" schtick, but it also makes for a genuinely horrifying & compelling narrative. like, What If you were a teenager suddenly realizing the things that go bump in the night are not only real but tearing your life down around you while everyone else remains oblivious--would that be fucked up or what? love the moment where she sees the goblin w/ the blood-soaked hair (who is hot and cool btw) holding not a bleached skull but a very visibly dark & bloody one with Bits Still Attached and it finally clicks for her that this is Real. that one little image of abject gore and suffering during an extended traumatic experience that viscerally hammers the entire thing right into your skull. & the characterization of her looking directly at sculptures of rotting meat and imagery of knives doing terrible things and blood on the streets and then deciding that there's actually an Art to the wriggling wet underbelly of the world, one she wants to hold and own instead of vice versa, is good. i like it. there's a moment where she briefly sounds entirely capable of holding a conversation with bonesaw regarding Art, and that is excellent.
i also think she's probably still in over her head without realizing. she's manipulated into ordering someone's murder and then is like "you know i think i can make up for this one AND go on a fun little adventure to add to my scrapbook of knowledge at the same time." that's not how reality works! you killed someone! and then tried to semi-earnestly befriend slash mooch from their cousin! she's only been a practitioner for six months--i think there's a very fundamental disconnect btwn the maggie that's lucky enough to still have parents she can be a normal silly teenager with and the maggie that's making forays into The World Of Backstabbing, Horror, Murder, and Fates Worse Than Death. and i think that disconnect will result in strain for her as the fact that she's sort of doomed to do some really awful things, have some really awful things happen to her, and/or both sinks in. okay that largely summarizes my maggie thoughts so far. i hope to see more of her and her silly little goblins i do enjoy the grotesque.
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
Why (And Why Not) To Have Kids
So as I've been moving to a different stage of parenthood--my three being all in double digits now--I've been kind of looking back on the whole mad scrum of raising babies and thinking about why exactly it seems worth it to me.
It was worth it, but also it was fucking hard. I wasn't prepared going in; I'm not sure anyone is. Maybe if you grow up in a big extended family taking your turn doing the bouncy walk with a fussy baby almost every day; and if you've got family around who will take the baby from you, in turn. Then maybe it wouldn't turn your whole life upside down and fundamentally remake your brain and sense of self.
But for most of us in these atomized times, parenthood changes everything. It takes away all your time and all your self-determination and all your money, too. It drives you to the brink and sometimes over it. No wonder more and more people are saying "nah, I'm good." (And that's a FINE choice!)
But for those who still feel an inscrutable exhortation of the soul--those who worry that their lives would not be complete without a child--here's my advice on how to tell if you should, or shouldn't.
Firstly, and mostly. If you don't enjoy kids, you shouldn't. If you don't fundamentally like being around them; if you don't think they're fun, and funny; if they don't put a smile on your face. Don't count on feeling differently about your own. Like, you will probably enjoy yours more, but they're still basically gonna be kids. If you hate the noise, the questions, the sticky hands--if you wouldn't take a friend or family member's kids for a day excursion just because you'd enjoy their company. Don't do it.
I like kids. I like my own kids even more. They still drove me crazy sometimes and that's inescapable. My observation has been that it seems much worse for the people who DON'T like kids but expected their own to be "different."
But, if you feel your life would be empty without them... well, that is something that kids fix. The emptiness. Like, you probably shouldn't have a baby just because you're lonely...but also, you'll never be lonely again for at least the next thirteen years.
If you wonder what the purpose of your life is; if you're searching for meaning. Children fill that hole right up. I don't think anybody dies surrounded by loving family and asking themselves, "well, I brought X number of wonderful people into the world, but other than that, what was it all for?" Like, once you have created a whole entire other human, you do not lack for meaning or purpose. You've got that covered forever, because you're gonna care about them more than you care about yourself.
So if you find yourself watching little humans at the park and wishing you could spend more time with them... if you think a lot about the books you'd want to read them, the places you'd want to take them, the things you'd want to teach them... if you absolutely crave the sweet, trusting warmth of a baby asleep against your shoulder. That's a good reason to do it, actually.
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
I like to imagine Beyond's hypothetical shinigami dad (mom? I just find it more likely he was human born since he's... clearly a human with at least one shinigami power and if he was birthed by a shinigami he'd probably be more like a nerfed shinigami just by like... Pokemon breeding logic I guess) is a shinigami we haven't seen rather than a pre existing character simply because 1. That's another character oh boy how fun and 2. I feel like there'd have to be some ramifications of making such a beast. Like if extending human life is a crime punishable by instant death how is making another human also not a punishable offense? Like at the very least put them in time put for that. Don't just let them hang about with everyone else.
Anyway my personal take is that B's shinigami dad was summoned (I imagine there has to be some way to summon a shinigami, or at least ask for one to come down or something) by some shinigami worship cult or whatever and for whatever reason, decided to bone some human women and create Beyond Birthday. The shinigami king was like hey, what the fuck dude, penis privilege revoked for all of you and Beyond's father was permanently shunned by the rest of the shinigami because jacking off was the only other thing to do besides gambling.
The shinigami king had to make a whole bunch of rules about how Beyond should even function and assigned his father to look over him to make sure he wasn't being too much of an issue. Beyond's dad was already a very finicky and active shinigami so following some guy around earth wasn't ideal but he got to spend time with his kid I guess.
He never actually showed himself to B, kinda just doing paranormal shit like dropping things or moving things in his room when he wasn't in there. The reason why was that he didn't need B going full crazy and trying to convince everyone he was haunted by some freaky monster because B was already something of an outcast and didn't need another reason for people to hate him.
One interesting little idea I had was the concept of shinigami eye inheritance. My idea going that the eyes are a recessive trait and can only be introduced into the gene pool by someone having a child while they had the eyes. If both parents have them when the kid in conceived a child with be born with the eyes. B's mom made the deal and his dad was obviously a shinigami so he has the eyes. Now an interesting side effect of carrying the gene means there is a chance to recognize the vague visage of shinigami without touching a notebook. Not being fully capable, but still understanding that something was there. Basically, A happened to carry the gene because someone in his family had they eyes in the past meaning he could see B's dad following him. Now obviously B's father didn't account for this because honestly the chance of a human carrying that gene is so extremely slim and he only made an effort to hide himself from B so A got to see the distorted face of death and maybe that may have acounted in his unfortunate demise but hey he was gonna die young anyway and at least the visage of a death god haunting your friend helps inspire you to make cool horror art.
Oh also the reason B wasn't killed instantly is because the shinigami king was curious as to how his life would go. It went bad but he was amused by the LABB murder cases (obviously shinigami kid would not be in trouble for murder, it's literally in his blood.)
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
My poor younger sibling is the only member of my family that actually wants to see people. Like. In real life.
They get so excited when extended family may come visit.
So uh. Yesterday, a somewhat distant relative said they were coming to town and wanted to make plans to meet up with us. Now, making plans to go somewhere for my family is. Complicated.
My younger sibling has a lot of disabilities that make getting out of the house quite the production (wheelchair, medical equipment that has to travel with us, etc, etc). But uh. People don't usually understand this. They don't really process the fact that leaving the house takes real effort for us.
But we were gonna do it because my younger sibling really wanted to meet up with this person! Because my sibling is a fucking weirdo who actually likes people for some reason. 😂 Very much the black sheep of the family. We're all anti social losers.
Anyways, so this person last night says that they'll get back in contact with us to make plans to meet up today.
So my sibling gets ready for the day as if they're gonna be leaving the house.
And then we wait.
And wait.
And wait some more.
Finally my mom is like, no. It's too late in the day now. It's an hour drive there and traffic will be bad and we can't be out late in the evening anyways for reasons. So she texts the person that they'll have to cancel.
And uh. The person texts back basically saying that they're at the airport right now, leaving town, so they wouldn't have been able to meet up anyways. Plans got changed so they didn't end up staying as long as originally thought.
🙃
So uh. Yeah. My younger sibling is really upset. They even said "This is gonna turn me into you!" lol. 😂
This person had all fucking day to let us know plans changed. But didn't say anything until we had to cancel.
Odds are they just forgot about the plans they'd been making with us. But fucking hell.
I'm very angry on my sibling's behalf because they actually like spending time with our extended family! They like hanging out with people! And this happens to them all the fucking time.
And then *we* get labeled as the people that don't make an effort to spend time with family. Because no one understands how much fucking effort it takes to even leave the fucking house and no one's willing to accommodate for that. They always expect us to be the one to drive an hour. They expect us to be the one to stay over at their house (with a fucking ventilator no less 🙄).
We can't just jump in the car and go anywhere we want. Just getting my sibling into a car is a long, hard process because of their mobility disabilities. Then if where we're going requires them to get out of the car again... Oh boy. That's a lot of moving around that is very difficult. That's not even mentioning the like three bags of medical equipment my sibling has to have nearby at all times (some of which is attached to them!).
And yet. My sibling loves going places. They love meeting people.
My sibling, the one of us who physically can't go places too much both because it's difficult and because they're prone to getting sick.
And the *one* time in months that we were gonna put forth the effort and take that risk... and the person doesn't even have the courtesy to let us know they needed to cancel.
anyways, i'm kinda pissed off if you couldn't tell. I figured a lot of y'all might be able to relate to part of this struggle at least.
I don't have my sibling's physical disabilities but I have a lot of my own issues that our extended family over the years has thought they could fix by just forcing me to do what they wanted me to do. I've had people just not understand the depth of my problems and never care to accommodate me or even just accept that part of me. But I also fucking hate people and don't care to talk to any of our extended family if I don't have to, so it's whatever. It just breaks my heart to see my sibling be so excited for something only for that person to be an inconsiderate jerk and crush their excitement.
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
Sooooo...is it too much to ask for your answers to all of the questions on the ask list about your country?? (I hope you will say no and tell me to select a handful, if that's what you prefer.)
Sorry, sorry, I totally meant to do this faster but that was a lot of questions, haha. Putting this under a read more because it got LONG.
1.) favourite place in your country?
Honestly there are a lot of beautiful places in France, but a personal favorite would be Biarritz, near the Spanish border. My whole extended family used to vacation there when I was a kid.
2.) do you prefer spending your holidays in your country or travel abroad?
Given the choice I’d prefer to travel abroad.
3.) does your country have access to sea?
Yes, via the English channel, the Atlantic and the Mediterranean sea.
4.) favourite dish specific for your country?
La blanquette de veau, a dish that was originally from Normandy :)
5.) favourite song in your native language?
Nooo, don’t do this to me. I hate picking favorites. I’ll just share one that has some personal significance for me and not call it my favorite ;)
6.) most hated song in your native language?
I don’t know that I really hate that many songs, but on a personal level I definitely never wanna hear Jusqu’ici tout va bien by Gims again as long as I live. It’s the theme song to a show my roommate watches every evening (which means I have to hear it Every.Day.) and it irks me that the title is a reference to one of the best scenes from my favorite movie when the song itself is so annoying. But maybe I just feel that way because I have to hear it so, so often.
7.) three words from your native language that you like the most?
Clair-obscur (chiaroscuro), l’engrenage (an ineluctable series of events) and it’s technically two words but l’amitié amoureuse. The literal translation would be ’friendship in love’ but it’s not actually a romantic love, it just describes basically having an intense but platonic crush on your friend. It’s one of my favorite concepts in the French language.
8.) do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom?
No, we don’t, for better or for worse France is very uniquely French, lol.
9.) which of your neighbouring countries would you like to visit most/know best?
The one I know best is probably Switzerland, just because my great-uncle lived in Lausanne and we visited him a few times when he was still alive. Fun fact, he ran away to Switzerland after having an affair with a married woman because her husband threatened to kill him, lol.
The one I’d like to visit most is Italy, just because that’s where part of my family is from (from Parma) and I’ve never been.
10.) most enjoyable swear word in your native language?
Putain, which I use approximately 500 times a day XD
11.) favourite native writer/poet?
Listen, how am I meant to pick just one when there are so many??
Classic literature: Gustave Flaubert
Contemporary writer: Marie Ndiaye
Favorite poet: maybe Marguerite Yourcenar? Although my favorite poem might be L’Irréparable by Charles Baudelaire.
You didn’t ask but my favorite play is Le Cid by Corneille. Romeo and Juliet wishes XD
12.) what do you think about English translations of your favourite native prose/poem?
I think there’s just always something missing in translation tbh.
13.) does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders?
I mean, I know outsiders often comment on the fact that French people kiss each other on the cheek to say hello (se faire la bise) but I don’t know if that counts as a strange tradition.
14.) do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV?
Ehh, to me French cinema/TV is divided in two categories, really fucking good and really fucking awful, haha, there’s pretty much no in-between. A bad movie is called a navet (a turnip) by the way^^
15.) a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get?
There’s a lot of jokes and memes that originated from the tv show Kaamelott that are going to be hard to decipher for people who haven’t seen it. Here’s one I think you’ll enjoy:
16.) which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with?
The one I agree with is that French people complain all the time because we really, really do, haha. I don’t agree with the stereotype that French people are lazy though, we just don’t live to work but why are we acting like it’s a bad thing?? I don’t know, there are a lot of negative stereotypes about French people but tbh at the end of the day I don’t really care that much.
17.) are you interested in your country’s history?
Sure, it’s definitely interesting, but there’s so much of it it can be a little intimidating.
18.) do you speak with a dialect of your native language?
Nope.
19.) do you like your country’s flag and/or emblem? what about the national anthem?
Our emblem is le coq (the rooster), which you only see on the French team’s shirts, just like you’re most likely to see the flag when there’s a World Cup. It’s fine I guess, I don’t really have an opinion on it.
Our national anthem is kind of problématique but it does go hard. I’ll give it that. Like, if you’ve ever watched that scene from Casablanca where they sing La Marseillaise you’ll understand what I mean by that.
20.) which sport is The Sport in your country?
Mbappé Soccer :)
21.) if you could send two things from your country into space, what would they be?
I’ve been puzzling over this question for weeks, haha, and I’m still not sure what it means, like? Do you mean annoying people I’d launch into space or XD
22.) what makes you proud about your country? what makes you ashamed?
I don’t have a lot of national pride tbh. I’m ashamed about a lot of the public discourse, the islamophobia, the state violence, the way Nicolas Sarkozy and the media brought far-right talking points into the mainstream and now we’re all swimming in their shit.
I’m proud to know that French people are always ready to burn shit down though.
23.) which alcoholic beverage is the favoured one in your country?
According to Google it’s beer. I would’ve probably said wine.
24.) what other nation is joked about most often in your country?
Probably Belgium. There’s lots of belgian jokes.
25.) would you like to come from another place, be born in another country?
I don’t really think about stuff like that. Every country has its own issues, so it is what it is.
26.) does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal?
Oh boy, does it ever. Every time a new season of Emily in Paris comes out you can bet French Twitter is gonna have a field day over this shit XD
27.) favourite national celebrity?
When you say national celebrity my first thought immediately goes to Jean-Jacques Goldman. Amazing songwriter, but also very well-known for his work with the Restos du Cœur, a French charity that was founded by his friend the comedian Coluche and les Restos famously do more for the poor than our own government ever would. Probably why Goldman gets elected personnalité préférée des Français every other year. (He also pays his taxes in France, unlike some people, and we always appreciate that here.)
28.) does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites?
It does. I think the most famous are the river Seine, the Mont-Blanc (although that crosses over into Italy) and as far as lakes go I’m sure there are a lot but I can’t think of a really well-known one.
29.) does your region/city have a beef with another place in your country?
My city does have beef with another city, but I won’t say which for privacy reasons ;)
30.) do you have people of different nationalities in your family?
My paternal grandmother was from Laos and my paternal grandfather’s family immigrated from Italy (not him directly, but his mother). I think there’s some German (well, Prussian) and Flemish on my mother’s side. My aunt’s husband is also from Italy, and my eldest brother’s wife is from Madagascar. I think that’s all :)
Thank you so much for asking, friend, I can only hope I didn’t totally bore you to death XD
“Hi, I’m not from the US” ask set
14 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
chronophobic-stumbling
Falling through time and fearing every moment
perfeitocaos
Perfeito Caos.
adashoffash
A Dash Of Fash
paolaruesga
Sin título
sonflowerx
clar